Silver & Gold

Brit sat in the resting place examining the contents of a footlocker that she had asked a passerby to bring to the Shelter from the library. In her hand, she held the letter that told her where to find the locker. Slowly, she read silently but her lips moved forming each word. She had read the note several times while her hand touched the footlocker. When she read the letter, tears would form, but they dried as she touched the locker. At sunset, Ethan rose to find her sitting in the dark staring at the locker. “What is that, princess?”

Handing Ethan the letter, she watched. Ethan glanced over the top of the paper before going to his desk to read it. He read once and then again. Folding the paper to place on the desk, he said, “Things are not always as they seem, Brit.” Motioning her to him, he patted his lap pulling her into it when she approached. “Things are not always as they seem, baby.” Ethan told her about the rumors going about the city and what had been told to him by more reliable individuals.

Brit’s eyes widened. Picking up the note again, she read it silently yet again. “So…they are dead.” Ethan watched Brit process without interference. Her eyes blinked in their rhythmic pattern and she stared at the note. Her lips were outlined in baby pink lip tint and Ethan could see her lower lip starting to quiver. Brit glanced up to him questioning.

“Baby, what do you think?” He kept a hand on her and was linked with her mind. In the beginning, Ethan thought not to tell her. However, his wife was not a child, he reminded himself. An adult would be told, and so he had made up his mind to tell her of the events. The note, found within a book in the library, had informed Brit first. Placing his hand on her chest, he whispered, “What does your heart tell you?” Sliding his hand higher, he said, “What about your mind? Look within and trust yourself.”

Encouraged, Brit processed. “I…I think I would have known…felt it within,” she lisped. Ethan simply watched her as she spoke her thoughts out loud. Sliding off of his lap, she returned to the foot locker. Kneeling beside it, she said, “It has maps, and some stuff…writing with no pictures.” Puffing her cheeks, she picked up a pile of library cards and sorted through them. “All of these people have disappeared…perished maybe or just ran away.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan said, “Indeed? Allow me to see those please.” She gave him the pile of cards and went back to sorting through the footlocker.

Pulling jars of slugs with blood dried on them, she read the labels. “Me. Family. Others.” The three jars were set beside her. Staring at the jars, she gasped causing Ethan to look up quickly. She whispered holding the “me” jar, “I think….these were meant to perish him!”

Seeing her wide-eyes, Ethan grinned. “But they did not, did they?” She blinked twice before giggling and shook her head ‘no.’ Ethan chuckled. Brit looked back at the jars curiously finding some names rather surprising. Sensing her thoughts, he said, “No…if one of those perished him, it would likely not be in the jar, now would it?”

“No,” she said giving them another glance before setting the jar carefully on the floor next to her. Brit found pictures she had drawn and a bent and buckled short black sword. There were some uniforms, and ceremonial fetishes. Ethan raised an eyebrow as he used his own skills to sense anything dangerous in the footlocker. Next she found an ominous knife collection and first aid gear. A few cooking items and a small box of medals followed by a small silver wolf head.

“Allow me to see that, Brit,” said Ethan holding his hand out for the item. She gave it to him and he turned the wolf’s head left and right before holding it for a moment. “Silver…interesting.” Handing it back to her, he said, “Be sure to pack that in with the medals. In the box. And place it to the bottom for safe keeping.” He watched as Brit did what she was told. “We shall put the items somewhere for safe keeping until we hear where it is to be shipped.”

Brit packed the footlocker. “Will someone ask for it?”

Ethan pressed fingertips together arching his fingers. “I am sure someone will. Or perhaps we shall ship it.” Seeing her quizzical look, he pulled a second note from his pocket. Looking to her, he opened it mysteriously and started to read. “Hello, Ethan. I hope this missive finds you well. I enclose a small gift to commemorate your Paper Anniversary.” Ethan read slowly stopping often to ensure Brit could keep up with what was said.

Along with the note were a number of stories from the lands of Greece that had been written for children at the turn of the century. Ethan scowled slightly at some of the titles, but reminded himself that his wife was not a child. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him when someone had once commented, “It is only a bicycle.” Tapping his fingers on his desk, he glowered at the memory silently noting that society had declined dramatically since women were given bicycles. “Are you okay,” asked Brit.

“Yes, darling.” Ethan smiled and put the note card away. Though he was sure that some of the titles were deliberately chosen, he had to grin at the image of the mischievous glee that went into their selection.

“We have good friends, Ethan.” Brit smiled warmly looking over the book at him. Earlier, she had been wearing a dress made especially for her by a dear friend. That same friend, who was practically “family”, had made a matching vest for Ethan as she knew of their preference to match. Yet another had gifted them with a beautiful wrought-iron bed and matching candlestick. They even had their own moon and stars for when the cloud cover made one wistful for a clear night.

Thinking of those who protected Brit and looked out for him whether he felt he needed it or not, Ethan replied, “That we do, baby.” He could see her thinking and processing. People who had come and gone from the city. Her emotions waivered slightly as she thought of some and then others, but she was wrapped in the feelings of those for whom she cared and cared for them in return.

Ethan simply watched as she flipped through the books that had been sent. Then, he heard her voice. It was soft and sweet. Though she carried the tune, her voice held a slight child-like quality to it. “Make new friends, but keep the old.” Her hair framed her face as she sang softly, “One is silver and the other is gold.” Smiling, he walked to pull her up and swayed to her tune. He didn’t even frown when she asked him to read a story that reminded him of bicycles.